Don't Eat the Casserol,the Filling is Gun Powder
by Rosalie McCarty
Summary: Edward is a piano loving, outcast, best-friend of Jacob, rebel, girl avoider, and sucks at math. Did I mention that he is the son of the most adored and feard mob boss? Did I also mention his crush over the FBI agent's daughter? All Human OOC
1. Disclaimer and Summary

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Not the characters or even the story and plot. Props to Stephanie Meyer for making the awesome characters I am going to manipulate into the funniest story by Gordon Korman. This disclaimer goes for every chapter in this story.**

**I'm going to follow the book **** Son of the Mob**** pretty closely and the first two chapters are pretty much going to be exact copies. They do such a good job introducing everything that if I do it any other way it would be an abomination. Don't sue me if I use some of the same wordings for a little bit.**

**All human. OOC. **

**Summary****: Edward is a normal kid, just trying to make in through high school. His best friend, Jacob, is trying to score vicariously through him; his brother Emmett is a nuisance; and his father, Carlisle, is bugging the stew out of him to join the "family business". Normal kid right? There is one major thing that sets him apart from other kids - his father is the head of a powerful mafia. **

**Needless to say, Edward's "family connections" can seriously dampen his love life. And the one girl (Bella) that actually seems worth the trouble... her family turns out to be the biggest problem of all. Because her father, Charlie, is one of the FBI agents wanting to put Edward's father behind bars for good.**

**If you've read the books here are the characters equalities for fun;**

**( They aren't in any particular order. Just kind of off the top of my head)**

**--**

**Vince Luca- Edward Cullen**

**Tommy Luca- Emmett Cullen (I think this is such a perfect match)**

**Alex -Jacob **

**Anthony Luca (mob boss and dad) -Carlisle Cullen**

**Vince's mom- Esme**

**Uncle Pampers- Jasper Whitlock**

**Ray- Sam**

**Kendra Brightly- Bella Swan**

**Agent Brightly- Agent Charlie Swan.**

**Angela -Jessica Stanley**

**Benny the Zit- Pimple (Eric)**

**Jimmy the Rat- James**

**--**

**that's all I can think of right now. I'll update this when I get more into the story and introduce more characters. most of them don't show up in the first two chapters.**


	2. A Night With Edward Cullen

**Okay! Here it is! YAY! And I'll say one more time, the first two chapters are almost completly like the first two chapters of the book. So please don't say 'OMG!! This is exactly what the books says. You pledgeraiser!!' cuz that's very annoying.**

Well, here ya go! Enjoy! --

Chapter One: Bryce Beach and a Bloody Blanket- Preface

Probably the worst night of my life was supposed to be my best date with Jessica Stanly.

Here's how it goes down:

Five o'clock. I'm already nervous by the time Jacob drops by to go over the checklist. Jacob's funny to watch when his around my family. He's always so skittish because of what my family does for a living. Especially tonight. Tonight my older brother Emmett is storming around our mansion, ranting about how Pimple** Eric** was supposed to pick him up for a "business meeting".

But once my doors are closed, Jacob is as cool as a cucumber.   "Car keys?" He barks.

"Check."

"Money?"

"Check."

"Blanket?"

"It's in the trunk. If everything goes great, hopefully we'll be using it at the beach. Everything is going to go fine."

"Don't get cocky!" Jacob snaps at me. "This is my love life we're talking about you know."

That's Jake's new thing. Since he has no love life he wants to score vicariously with me. Except I have no love life either... maybe tonight I will.

Jake's eyes rolled and he looked at my bed.

"You're not wearing that are you?" He says disapprovingly.

"Yeah. Why?"

He slaps his forehead and then proceeded to slap mine. I got to him first. Being a close relative to a lot of people that can knock guys out in two hits, I've learned to take care of myself.

Jake shakes it off. "Look. It's wool. Can you say Scratchy? You're going to watch a horror movie! She's going to be all over you! We need- onehundred-percent cotton, or maybe a nice linen silk blend..."

I sometimes wonder if the reason Jake doesn't have a love life is because he's gay.

But by the time we picked out an appropriate outfit and go over the last few rules of engagement ("Don't order the chili! All of our hard work will fall apart if your stomach's gurgling with toxic gas!), it's almost six. Jacob takes off, carefully avoiding the many persons running about our house, while I run down to the basement for a quick workout. Don't get me wrong. I'm no muscle head. But I kind of enjoy getting stuff off my head this way. Plus, it wouldn't be such a crime if I grew a pair of shoulders. The Cullen's are built like trucks. How did I come out a beanpole, especially when my mom, Esme, cooks from the How to Feed an Army and Still Have Left Over cookbook? Once I tried to get her to admit that I was adopted. I am the only the only one not interested in the family business. But she said I was legit. Which is more than she could say about the family business.

I took a shower and dried off. I hit the road and as I was leaving I could here my bear of a brother tearing into Pimple for not picking him up on time.

What I didn't know was that while Emmett was waiting he couldn't take it anymore and took my car and went to attend to the family business on his own.

And with that I go to pick up Jessica.

She looks awesome. Her curly brown hair fits perfectly around her face and makes her frame appear longer and thinner.

We ate at this little coffee shop that was designed to look like an old time diner. It was going splendidly. I didn't even have to use the topics that Jacob had been prepping me for. He went searching on the Internet.

"This is my love life we're talking about here." Jacob reminds me. "I can't risk it if we get dumped because we don't have anything in common!" 

"Maybe if you didn't spend all your time on the Internet you'd have your own love life." I shot back.

I felt bad about that later while Jessica was strung on me like a boa constrictor in the movie theatre.

I won't admit it to Jacob but I didn't really notice she was there. The movie was so absurd that it was hard to not look. What kind of a sick, demented screenwriter could have ever dreamed up a story like Harvest of Death? There are seventeen main characters. At the end of only thirty minutes they are all dead... including the killer. He, as clear as I can tell, is a cross between a vampire and a hay-baling machine. Just when I'm thinking there's no one left to be in the rest of the movie, along comes a troop of girl scouts menaced by the vampire's evil twin yes, the first killer was the good guy, or the good hay baler. Take your pick.

Well, the movie must have worked. Because when I suggested we hit the beach, Jessica's back in the car before I can finish stammering. It must have been those evil girl scouts that did the trick. Or maybe my fabulous cotton blend shirt.

I'm a little worried by all the other traffic going our way. Bryce Beach is a popular spot for the high schools in our area. Will we be able to find any privacy?

"Park over there," Jessica says decisively, pointing to a spot shielded by two outcroppings of the dunes.

I can't help suspecting she's been here before.

We parked and the beach was there, the moonlight shining, the grass swaying... you get the picture. I'll never describe it right. I'm a Cullen. Anything more than a series of grunts is considered eloquence from us. The point is, is that everything is perfect. As if the Date Gods have actually favored me for once.

She kissed me. Wow. Amazing.

"Got a blanket?" She asked smiling.

"Everything is provided for your comfort." I say so suave. I was surprised my mouth even worked after that kiss.

I pop the trunk, reach in, and freeze. I almost choke on my lungs, which have leaped up the back of my throat. There's the blanket all right wrapped around the unconscious body curled up and bleeding.

"I'm waiting," Jessica teases in a playful singsong voice.

"Be right there," I rasp. I know this person. Jamie... Embry, he owns a sleazy nightclub on the lower east side. He borrowed money from my father to get it started up.

So here I am on Bryce Beach with a revved up and red hot Jessica Stanley in my arms and an out cold Embry in the trunk of my Mazda Protégé.

I need to stall. So I clamped on to Jessica like there was no tomorrow. I guess she misinterprets my desperation as grand passion. She starts kissing me really starts kissing me. Like going nuts about it. I bet that's a strategy Jacob didn't put down.

Here I am getting the best action of my life because six feet away the trunk is open and Embry is snoring softly while bleeding on my blanket.

At this point I try to lead Jessica further down the beach.

"Get the blanket." "The beach is nice and soft"

"I don't want sand all over me."

She skips around me and before I can stop her, she's staring into the trunk , the blanket and it's current occupant.

The screaming? I though Harvest of Death was bad, but this was a whole other league.

"He's dead. He's dead. Oh my... Edward he's dead!"

"He's not dead... he's resting."

Jessica spares me the questions and just climbs into the car, arms folded, face like stone. "Take me home Edward. This minute."

I slam down the trunk lid, climb behind the wheel, and put the car in gear.

We didn't say a word as I slowly merged on to the road to get outta here.

That's when I see the traffic jam. Oh. No. The cops have set up a roadblock. Looking for booze and drugs. I don't have any of that stuff. What I do have is an Embry in the trunk.

There is no other way to get out of here. The only other way is by submarine.

I have a giddy vision of Jacob.   "Snorkel mask?"

"Snorkel mask? What for?"

"For when you're caught with a body in your trunk and you have to swim for it. Don't get cocky Edward. This is my love life we're talking about."

The guy three cars ahead of me gets caught with a bottle of vodka. He passed the Breathalyzer though. So they confiscate the bottle but he doesn't get arrested.

No such hope for me. I doubt they'll confiscate Embry and leave me with a warning. Especially not after they see the name Cullen on my driver's license. My family has quite a reputation in law enforcement.

The roadblock is two cars away. Now one. Beside me, Jessica's lips are moving. I think she's praying.

The Nissan in front pulls away. It's our turn.

And then an act of God.

Horn honking wildly, an out of control Cadillac weaves down the causeway from the other direction, doing at least sixty. All at once, the driver slams on the brakes. The wheels lock, sending the big car into a spin. It side wipes the divider in a metal on metal shower of sparks, and lurches to a halt. There, hanging on for dear life sits Pimple. He's looking straight at me through the crack in his windshield. The cops leap the divider and run to the scene of the accident.

Hey, I'm not going to wait for an engraved invitation. I stomp on the accelerator and about fifteen other cars peel after me. I learned the full story later. Once dad found out that I went on a date with Embry in my trunk, he gave Emmett a good yell. Well, Emmett passed it on to Pimple, because, it was his fault that he didn't pick up Emmett in the first place. So it became Pimple's job to get me out of this no matter the cost. The cost turned out to be one Cadillac. In my family that counts as justice.

Our thrilling escape did nothing to thaw Jessica's cold attitude towards me. When I drop her off at her house she says, "If you promise not call me; talk to me; when you pass me in the halls to not even look in my direction; then maybe just maybe, I might forget what happened tonight."

I nodded sadly. "I don't even know who you are."

From the trunk of my Mazda, I hear pounding. Embry wants out. I know Emmett's going to crush me for this, but I pull over and let Embry  out.

He looks disdainfully at my Mazda. "Damn foreign cars. No trunk space at all."

I bit my lip to keep from saying. "Blame it on Pimple. If he wasn't late you could have been beaten up and imprisoned in a Cadillac. The tazhmahal of trunks. Would that have suited you?"

That's the whole story. Embry isn't dead but my relationship with Jessica is.

Later, according to Jacob, this is my entire fault.

"Face it, Edward. You screwed up. You had a golden opportunity and you through it to pieces. This isn't doing my love life any good you know?"

Think what it's doing to mine.


	3. The Vending Machine Business

**Hey Guys! How did you like the previous chapter? If you didn't review I would love it if you did, you could just say potatoes of you want to. I don't care. I'm a review nut. But anyway. I hope you like it. This chapter is really long. It gives a lot of background and you must read it all. It's good stuff guys. Anyway. here you go!-**

Pre-school is when I began to realize... my family wasn't like the other kids.

Picture this: I'm bundled up like that poor kid brother on _A Christmas Story _when I say.

"Where's daddy?"

"He's asleep Edward. After lunch you'll see him."

"But everyone else's daddy takes the bus or drives or gets on a train and goes to work. Why doesn't daddy?"

Get this, here's what she told me. "Well Edward. Your father has a different sort of job than the other dad's. He's in the... Vending Machine Business. He works odd hours because you never know when one of those machines breaks down."

That was her excuse for why my dad has to skip town for his bussines. I honestly used to belive that somewhere there was a jammed up or cracked soda machine and dad would go off at three o'clock in the morning to fix it. Hey, I was only four.

Brother's Vending Machine Inc. Was what my mom said the company was. Which I always thought was strange because Carlisle is an only child. But even so, there are plenty of uncles. I have uncles coming out of my wazoo. One time I was bored enough to make a list of all the uncles I have.

I was up to twenty five before I gave up.

The main ones are, Uncle Jasper, Uncle Aro, Uncle Marcus, Uncle Felix, Uncle Alec, Uncle Uncle, and no that wasn't a typo, we actually have an uncle called uncle. Everyone calls him that except his real nephew who call him Fred. And Uncle Rosalie. Which... confused me deeply as a child. I thought all relatives beside immediate family were called uncle. That was a humiliating day in kindergarden. Kids can be so mean. And dirty, I once saw this kid pick his nose and then give it to his girlfriend. Wow, off topic... anyway.

Seven years old: I wake up in the middle of the night. I'm really thirsty so I go down the hall to the bathroom to fill up my cup with the sink faucet. I walk in there and there is blood splattered on the towels and I have now the right to say I saw an actually blood bath. Scared out of my mind, I run into my parents bedroom and I find that the light is on and there's a little surgery in progress.

Plastic sheets are over everything and my uncle Laurent is lying face down on the bed whimpering.

Esme is holding him still while Carlisle digs at him with a pair of tweezers.

"I almost have it... there. I got it." He exclaims holding a piece of gore covered something.

They told me it was a kidney stone but I wasn't fooled. My teacher agreed with me about my suspicion that kidney stones don't come out of your butt cheek.

The peruliarities mount up.

Like the sudden camping trip we took in the city hotel. And when I get back no one knew I was on a camping trip. They all thought I had strep-throat. Or one day at lunch I opened my lunch box and it was full of cut diamonds. Everyone was laughing and having a good time while I sat in a corner guarding my stash of 'snacks'. They had to take me to a psychologist because of my obsession with food.

One day I walked home when Uncle Rosalie drove up to me and said that she was supposed to take me to see a movie with her and then go to the park.

A day later I came back to my house and gawked. Carlisle said they had special cleaner's at the house and that he didn't want me to get in the way.

They were pretty losy cleaners. All my teddy bears were cut open. Not... that... I have teddy bears...

You know. Stuff like that.

By that point Emmett's told me, "Dad's mobbed up." But back then I assumed it just meant he had a lot of friends.

But my dad is a great father. He always finds time for us. He plays games and makes jokes and he has these funny little rituals that I thought were so hilarious when I was a kid.

Every night before I went to sleep my dad would look up at the ceiling and yell. "And a very good night to you Agent Numb-nuts."

Or before we go out to eat he'll call in the garage. "We're going to go eat now if that's okay with you Agent Bite-Me. Could we get you something?"

As a kid I thought that was a riot. Only now - years later - do I realize that he's actually talking to real people . FBI agents to be exact. Our house is was and always will be bugged.

It was a horrible day when It finally hit me that every burp, every bathroom break, everything was being listened to by the Federal Agents, worse, it was all preserved on tape.

At least now I understand why dad flipped his lid that time when I found a cash of bearer bonds.

"Dad what's this. It looks like money."

The man who didn't so much as spank me grasped an iron clad grip on my mouth.

"It's nothing son. Just play money. Like monopoly."

Uncle Vick cuts our lawn for the next three summers.

So just think about this, what a horrible situation it can make for a teenage kid. If I say the wrong thing, I could send my dad to jail.

One day I cornered mom in the laundry room. The noise from the machines was so loud that we could talk without some agents listening in.

"Mom, you don't have to pretend with me anymore. I know dad's in the mob."

She stared at me in shock. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Oh come on mom. I know you know."

I have to give Esme credit. She never moves an inch. Either that or she really is that dunce... which would explain Emmett.

But Esme can serve dinner to twenty guys in four o'clock in the morning with ten minutes notice.

Our basement is full of freezers just in case. She likes her eaters ravenous. And her cooking is really great! If not a little heavy. And not just in you stomach. Carrying a Tupperware full of Mom's cooking is like carrying fifty pounds of Purina dog chow.

And not to mention her cooking can really pack a punch.

When Emmett dropped out of highschool to join "The Life", he was working with this kid named Demetri, he was part of Uncle Felix's crew. Well, Emmett was just about my age, and dad said he would never intervene on his son's behalf. Apparently Demetri had some antagonism with Emmett and he had asked for Carlisle to help.

"You'll never get any respect on your own." He had said.

But things just keep getting worse and worse. Emmett was really getting bullied and pushed around by this guy.

So one night when Uncle Felix and his crew are over for dinner, Esme asked Demetri to help her bring the food out. There were in there alone and then a scream of bloody murder came from the kitchen and Demetri flew out of the kitchen and out of the house.

We ordered chinese food that night. An event so rare that it only comes about every solar eclipse and should have fireworks and a parade to go along with it.

"I thought we were having pot-pie." I stated.

"The pot-pie," Esme sighed. "Is totally out of commission."

I don't push it. Totally out of commission from my mom's mouth means that it's gone and never to return again in this life time or the next. But I do see it again. It was on the floor in the garage intact, except for the crust mold of a hand-print. And I saw Demetri walk around with a bandage on his hand for a few weeks. Second degree burns.

The incident is never mentioned again at our house, but from that day on I realize that Esme has a titanium backbone to go with her heart of gold. And if food is her medium, it can also be her message. Where family is concerned, nobody messes with Mom, not even her powerful husband.

Demetri stopped bugging Emmett. I think he's somewhere out West right now.

-

Jacob, who turns into a statue everytime Dad, Emmett, or any of the Uncles come in the room, has plenty to say when we're alone. "Don't you ever watch Mafia movies? Do you have any idea the kind of chicks these guys get? I challenge you to show me one gangster with an ugly girlfriend."

To say that Jacob has a one track mind is an insult to people with one track minds.

"Jacob. Stop. This is never going to be a part of my life. Carlisle knows where I stand."

His eyes shined and his lips turned up in awe. "Really? What did your dad say?"

It was less than a year ago. Dad didn't say anything at first, and it wasn't because of our latest eavesdropper, Agent Con. We were in the basement workshop, the only room that is guaranteed safe. It's Emmett's job to sweep the place twice a day for bugs. A lot of conferences take place there, and a lot of uncles have made their way down the basement stairs.

Well I sit in the loopsided ricity chair that rocks precariously on the concrete floor. Why do we have this piece of junk? Because It's a Carlisle Cullen handmade special.

For years my dad had wanted to bring it down a notch, and be not quite so busy. Uncle Laurant had just died (actually, I think he had help) and it reminded Dad that life is short.

So my father took up woodworking to relax him. And he has to be maybe the lousiest carpenter on the planet.

But he doesn't know that. He's Carlisle Cullen. Who would tell him? I've seen many of the toughest wise-guys in the tristate area oohing and aahing over a napkin holder that would languish on the shelf of the 99-cent shop.

"So," He begins. "you're not interested in the vending-machine business."

I wanted to argue, but what's the point? We both know what we're talking about. "Yeah, vending machines," I say. "It's a little touche for my tastes."

Dad breathes a heavy sigh. He knows I don't approve of his line of work, but I think he always hoped I'd grow out of it. As if obeying the law is a silly phase some crazy kids experiment with. "A man has the right to choose his own destiny," he acknowledges. "So now we know what you don't want. Tell me what you do want."

My mind goes blank. Carlisle smiles as if he's expecting that. "When I was your age, Edward, we had nothing. So I was the most motivated guy in the world to get out there and do better than my old man. With you it's different. You've got a great deal here - nice house, room service, new car . . ."

I drove a Porsche back then (sixteenth-birthday present) until the cops came and took it away to give back to the guy who really owned it.

"I've got ambition," I interrupt. "I just haven't figured out what I'm ambitious about yet."

"The law's a nice career for a kid with the gift of gab, "He suggests. "You can never have too many lawyers."

"You don't get it," I insist. " I don't want to be involved, period. I don't want 'vending machines' touching my life in any way."

Carlisle looks amused with a wicked glint in his eyes. "Too late kid. You think we'd live the way we do if I was in any other business? You're already in it, Edward. Right down to the clothes you wear, the food you eat, your allowance..." He pauses. "What you say makes sense. If you're not motivated by what I do, then fine. But you're seventeen yours old now. It's time to get motivated about something."

That's classic Dad - reasonable, sensible, supportive. People who meet him outside of the business find it hard to believe that this classy, soft-spoken gentleman is who he is. It only becomes clear when you see how the uncles tiptoe around him, the fear in people's faces when they hear his name, the scrambling that goes on when he asks for something. It's only at those times that I realize the great guy I call Dad is a man who runs a criminal organization that operates by means of violence and intimidation. And I really, truly, honestly want nothing to do with it.

Emmett says the word on the street is if you deal with Carlisle Cullen, you'll never get ripped off. Conversely, if you rip off Carlisle Cullen, you'll never deal again. Not in this life.

The word on the street is very important in that business, especailly for a guy like my dad, who keeps a low profile and only poeple in the circle know about him.

The only time Dad got any publicity was in the papers in 1998 the gangland assassination of James Calabrese. The cops are sure that my father ordered the hit, but they were never able to pin it on him. They just assumed he did it because the James out of the picture, Dad was able to take over as the vending-machine king of New York, Dad won't say anything about it one way or the other, not even to Emmett, who joined him in the business shortly after that.

It didn't take long for Emmett to develop a reputation just the opposite of Carlise's. Emmett's loud, crude, and rough, with a temper like a cherry bomb. When the door bell rings, he's the last guy you want to see standing there, except of course, Uncle Jasper.

Emmett has plenty of enthusiasm for his job. Maybe too much, as Jamie Rat could tell you. So Carlisle brought over his top young guys to be Tommy's partner... keeper would be a better word.

Sam Uley used to work as one of the loan sharks over on the east cost. If he's upset about babysitting a hot head, but he doesn't show it.

He's not an uncle but I guess he could be a cousin. Even though we are not related. I wish we were. Sam is one of the best guys I know. I have to stop myself and remember that he's a criminal.

Remember when I said that my sixteenth birthday present had been confiscated? Well, I had to go to jail. And all the uncles thought it was the funniest thing seeing me behind bars. Even Emmett just left me there. But Sam helped me out. He bailed me out, while Emmett and uncles act like it's just another days work to be put in jail. Sam understood how awful that was for me, and he didn't look at me like some odd specimen from the zoo when the guys found out I wanted no part in 'The Life'. Sam didn't judge me.

Even my dad doesn't get it. "We'll get you a new car."

"No. That's it. I laid down the law. No more stolen cars. I'll buy my own car and pay for it with my own money. No more allowances. I'll get a decent job."

They all laughed saying it was silly and childish. That I wouldn't get a good car.

But I didn't care. At least it would be mine and the feds couldn't take it away from me. And no one will have to use the words grand theft auto.

Sam stood up for me... even in front of Carlisle. Not even Uncle Jasper has the guts to do that. He helped me find a decent affordable car. It was my good old trusty Mazda Protege with only forty thousand miles on it.

"I can't believe I'm getting this for only three thousand dollars." I said pridefully.

"You're not. Don't tell him that I told you, but your dad gave me a couple thousand dollars to make sure you got something decent." Sam braced himself for impact.

He needed it. I blow up on him. Poor guy. He has to take care of Emmett and face the mob bosses other son scream in his face. But his a good guy, his patient.

"Just take the car. Your father just wants to help you out."

"No. I'm not touching any part of 'The Life'."

Sam grabbed my shoulders and looks me in the eye. "The Life is paying for yours. The clothes on your back, the bed you sleep in at night, your mother's cooking, it wouldn't be possible if it weren't for your father's business. Your father's business is why you can stand there and be all high and mighty about the vending machine business. So... as we say, fur git about it."

I bought the car.

My father always has a special smile when he sees my Mazda, even though it looks pretty lame next to the parade of limos and Meamers and Mercedes that are always coming and going at our place. Sam says Carlisle still disapproves of the way I got it. You know, legitimately.

But that's what he likes about it - that his younger son did something he disapproves of.

So he should get an explosion of fuzzy feelings when he finds out what I'm doing now.

**wow, that was long. Review! **

**Okay the good part is coming up. But hopefully it's all good.**

**Oh, I want to change the name of this story. What should I change it to? It has to be something catchy, like How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. I mainly just want ideas. But if yours is amazing and I use it. I'll give you an invisible trophy. (I have a thing with invisible trophies)**

**You guys rock**

-Rosalie


	4. Do it for the Socks

Today I joined the soccer team. That's not the thing that dad would disapprove of that I was talking about earlier. Well, actually he does disapprove of it. Because soccer 'is for wimpy men'. But he just stays out my way. But the soccer does lead me to the things I mentioned earlier. The real reason I joined the soccer team is because Jacob wanted me to. "Wanted" meaning begging non-stop till I said yes just to shut him up.

And the reason he wants to join the soccor team is because; get this, the socks.

"Yes. Edward. Girls would be all over us if we join the soccer team. The ladies love those socks. Edward. Come on. You can't deny it. Those soccer socks are hot."

I've been pushed into doing a lot of things by Jacob. Like taking that media class, thinking it was going to be about TV shows and whatnot. Nope. The class is full of geeks and at the end of the semester we have to build our own web-page. Thank you Jake, instead of all the ladies we were going to get by being in this class, we get to build a geeky web-page with the geeky people.

But anyway, so I'm here standing for try-outs and it turns out that Jake is not a bad goaly. So he gets placed as the replacement. Me, well, I get placed as one of the many fowards, the guys who play offensivly and have the ball. Like I know what that means. I'm only here becuase of the socks.

I don't tell my family. It doesn't change anything if they know that I'm playing soccer. And having Carlilse Cullen at the games would be a bad idea. It would be a pressure building up on me like a ton of bricks. Plus having the states most feared mob personnel yelling, "That's my son." Is out of the question.

But tonight is our first game. Were playing the Siberians. I don't know who they are, but I'm pretty sure that it's illegal to have an Islamic school here. Maybe I'm wrong.

It was almost half-time and neither Jake nor I have gotten to play. But Jacob's so hyped up it's like he's really playing in there. While I'm trying to tune most everything out. But I can still hear Jacob every now and then yell.

"No pass it to the other guy! - - - No! Not that guy. The other one with the green jersey! You idiot! -- Yes. Yes. Go go go. You got it. Wait. No no no . Wrong side! Wrong Side. Get it in the other side your morons! -- Ya! -- No! -- Come on. --Damn those socks are hot."

We were losing by fifteen points when I got a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see the coach.

"You're in Cullen." He looked like I was his last hope.

I walked to the circle and stood in my position I was told to in practice. Behind me were the opposing team. I think I heard some whisperings but it was probably just in my head. My childhood has completely screwed me up.

Well, I won't bore you with the boring details but somehow some idiot person passed me the ball. The only thing I could think of was move... preferably in the right direction.

No one else on my team was near enough for me to pass them the ball. I could feel the Siberians closing in on me. I say a foot in my perephial vision and it made a lousy try for the ball and then fell back.

I was coming up on the defense now and they ran for me but one of them fell and the other tried to get it but like the other guy fell back.

The path was clear now. I looked behind me to see if one of my team members were coming. What were they doing? Whatever happened to teamwork here?

I shrugged and looked back at their goalie. Why not? I kicked the ball, the goalies hands almost grabbed it. He was this close, but for some reason he just stopped.

The crowed cheered and we reset.

I got the ball again. I know. What the crap? And I know that the other team is right behind me. I'm not a good runner. I'm remarkably slow. But you'd think that I was the Marathon Man now. They got so close but never touched. I passed the ball to someone on our team. I think he's name is Dune, or Duncan, or maybe it was Dana. It could be a girl. But that's not the point. Well, I passed her/him the ball and all the defense team rushed over to the attacker and took our ball immediately.

I ran up to them and somehow, I guess it slipped or something, but against all those opposing teams, I got the ball again. And then I noticed a clear path. It was like I just separated the great red sea or something. Well, I'm not picky about miracles. I ran and kicked and ran and kicked until the same set up with the defense happened again and the goalie missed... again.

By this time I was thoroughly suspisous. And by this time the stands were screaming my name. Someone obviously has poor eye sight becuase they were yelling, "Coleen. Coleen. Coleen. Here we go Coleen. Here we go. (stomp stomp.) Here we go Coleen. Here we go." You get the picture.

Another play and then it was half time. We had two minutes... and of course in the two minutes I score... again. It doesn't make any sense. It's like... they are afraid of me. If I was hooked up to a sound machine there would be an audible 'click'.

I was just thinking things through when one of the members of the other team came over.

"Hey Edward. Remember me? Ben... Ben Cheney."

Oh, that's why one of the players looked familiar. This guy's father used to be in Uncle Marcus's crew. That's how they all know. Crap.

"Well, I have to go Ben. Nice seeing you again. But I'm kind of thirsty." And I left cursing my father.

He wasn't even here! Carlisle wasn't here and yet my life is being altered by him. It's like his presence is here. Wherever I go. He'll be there too. He's even written on the back of my jersey. Cullen. Than name will always haunt me.

I turned to the coach. "Hey, I want to be benched."

"No way. You rock out there. There not even close to you. It's like magic. You're going back out there. We've never had this much luck. You could really help this team out. Maybe even give us a few pointers."

Blood boiled in my forehead. "I quit." Then I walked away before I could hear his stream of profanities.

Jacob waltzed up behind me. "Hey. What's this. You're quiting? Why. You were awesome."

"No. I wasn't Jake."

"Yes you were. .Why didn't you tell me you were good." He pouted. "You could have said, 'Hey, I'm really good at soccer. Sure, I'll wear these dangerously good looking socks. Man. It was like they were afraid of you."

"No they weren't Jake. They were afraid of my father." His mouth dropped down to form an 'O'.

"Look, I'm getting out of here. Good luck Jake. I'm going home."

I went to the lockers, took a shower, and then walked into the parking lot.

I saw a girl I've never seen before just kind of wandering around.

"Do you need something. Are you looking for something?" I asked politely.

She jumped. "OH! You scared me.Uh, not really. I'm just waiting for my dad to pick me up. My car broke... again. I guess that tends to happen to a car that is barley younger than Charlie. Charlie's my dad."

I smirked. I didn't even know cars that old still roamed. I thought they were all extinct.

"Well, when did he say he was coming?"

"After the game."

"But it's not over yet."

"Oh. Really? Then why did everybody get up and leave?"

I wanted to laugh but that would probably hurt her feelings. "Because it's half time... you have no clue about sports do you." She shook her head and blushed. It was a lovely color... I found my self staring at her checks.

"Sorry, where are my manners. I'm Edward. Edward. Cullen. An ex-soccer player as of ten minutes ago."

"What happened?"

"The other team didn't fight fair." Well, they didn't fight at all.

"Oh." Was all she said looking down.

"And what might your name be? Do you go to school here?"

"Yes. I just moved here. My name is... oh here's my dad. I have to go. Maybe I'll see you on monday at school!" She called over her shoulder as she stepped in the middle of the parking lot.

"Your name!" I called.

"Isabella Swan. But I prefer Bella." She smiled at me and in the darkness I could just barely see her perfect sweet blush. Not the blush that's ugly and runs up the neck and the entire face... but just in the checks.

Something my mother said entered my brain. "Girls don't know how to blush these days. If they do it looks like they're choking on a hot dog." Esme as wrong. Bella knew how to blush. And it was lovely.

I had forgotten completly everthing that happened on the feild. My thoughts were only for this new girl. Bella.

It was going to be a long weekend. Monday will never come fast enough.

While I was contemplating, I just missed the license plate on the car that just drove Bella off. It read: US Property - FBI

I just wanted to get these fierce socks off.


	5. Mashpotato Blues and Piano Invitations

**A/N The lower half of this chapter resembles the First Sight from Twilight somewhat. I tried to make it as close as possible considering that Edward's a human and whatnot. but I think it's really cool. I love how something in Twilight and something in Son of a Mob fit together, you'll see what I mean in later chapters! okay, well here you go!-**

The weekend passed very miserably and dully, but I'll spare you guys the dreadful details.

Except that I got invited to play at a symphony, special guest as main pianist. I didn't mention that I'm pretty excellent if I do say so myself on that particular instrument. I have a ... not a baby grand piano, but a grand piano straight from Europe. Crazy I know. It's the only thing that I actually accepted as a 'gift' (or in other terms: a keep -your -mouth -shut- and- you- can- keep- it deal)

It all started when I was eight, when I found out I had a real knack for the piano. The Uncles all laughed saying that is sissy of me. So I kept my obsession quiet for a couple of years. I said I was going to karate or football practice, when really I headed to the music store and played some of the songs in the books they had for sell there. By the time I was eleven, the store moved to a larger location and I could play most of the Mozart and a little of the Bach on their larger selection of pianos. Like I said, I have a knack.

But my cover got blown when Uncle Caius and some of his cronies came in there to pick up a replica of an ancient chuffer for some job they had. I was thirteen at the time.

Boy, the looks on their faces when they saw me playing Moonlight Sonata without looking on the sheet was... ridiculing.

I tried to pretend not to know them for a while... they actually left me alone.

But when I got home they guys started to make fun of me again humming Fur Elise and what not. Esme had no idea what was going on and probably the heat was getting everybody, what with the Uncles humming loudly the tunes of the classics. Which, I have to admit, I'm surprised they knew that much.

Somewhere during dinner, the subject was brought up that I wasn't at rugby practice, I was playing the piano. Esme thought it was wonderful. Not that I lied, but that I could play. She was so happy. Probably because ... well, I don't really know, but she's been the most supportive of it.

(When the guys found out Esme was so glad for me, they backed off a little and smelled their food before eating it for a week)

I did get punished for lying to them for around four years. I'm not a spoiled brat like some might think. The punishment was I actually did have to take karate, and football, and rugby and all that jazz for a month.

My grades in school went down considerably. I barely had time to think and sometimes I would miss school all together... rugby is all fun and games until someone knocks the living daylights out of you. But who in my family cares about grades? (They do care... to an extent)

But while I was walking back from football practice I saw Uncle Caius... well let's just say teaching a guy a lesson about closed fists... on closer inspection this guy was a cop. Yes, a cop. Let me tell you, cop's don't like lessons on closed fists.

Caius saw me standing there with my shoulder-pads and dropped the guy. Apparently his identity was still unknown, but there was a big cash reward for anyone who had an idea who it was.

And that's the reason why there is now a grand piano predominating my 30' x 35' bedroom. As I said before, it was a 'gift' from Uncle Caius.

I didn't care if it was a keep-quiet gift, I loved that piano. I still do. I usually, play it when I'm bored and just want to be by myself and get away from the ciaos that is my family.

It's a great tool to shed my emotions out. I could play for hours and it would feel like only thirty minutes.

Anger, zealous, sympathy, sadness, frustration, loneliness, confusion, mystery. There is all ways a song to match what I'm feeling. And yes, there is the occasional happy song that I play rarely. (Like the enchanting song I made up after my horrendous soccer game on Friday.)

Which brings me back to the weekend. Some dude in a suit approached me. I was cautious around him because the feds like to dress nice.

But it turns out that he was from the east coast symphony and had heard of me in school papers, (which is not a good thing. Publicity of any kind is very unwanted in my family) But I accepted.

Carlisle didn't fully agree with me but this was my decision, how many seventeen year olds get the opportunity to be a guest lead instrumentalists?

The dude also said some other prodigal teens in the area were going to be showcased as well. A violinist named Frank somebody, a horn/trumpet thingy, with the name of... Ingrid Stynish and a singer, whose name I can't remember. Iza.. Izadore Quon I think. Well, it doesn't matter.

Any who, Monday finally came around. I almost forgot about my anxiety to get to school to see the new girl again because I lost myself in my new music I had to practice.

But when I did remember the same zealous anticipation returned to find and talk to the new girl again.

I wonder what classes she took... I wonder if we had the same lunch... I wonder if she even remembers me... I wonder if she is wondering about me too... I wonder if I'm going crazy with all this wondering about a girl!

I've never been one of the ladies man types. Sure, I was good looking. Sure, every time I passed by a group of girls in the hallway they started giggling... so why am I having so much trouble in extracting a vicarious relationship for Jacob... I guess it's my family record that precedes me. Or I'm the type of guy that girl's dream of but never actually think possible to date... or maybe I'm just really conceited. I am... just a little. Definitely not as much as Uncle Rosalie, who would rather check herself out in her compact mirror than check the mirror in the car...

Or maybe the girls are just giggling because I'm wired and geeky like I know I really am.

Hey, I'd rather be a dork and a jock. Because while their good life ends right after high school, dorks only begin and could probably someday rule the world. Emmett just hasn't figured that out yet.

Either way, I was somewhat obsessed with seeing Bella again. And it's probably the creepy stalker type obsessed. I tried to control this urge but it just keeping breaking out again. But I think it stopped when Jacob came up to me and said,

"So, whose next?"

"What do you mean?"

"What girl are we gonna date next? Come on Edward my love life is a very serious thing and not to be taken lightly. So, whose are next target"

At this I wanted to slam his face into the stairwell, and kick him out side and do things to him that only Emmett and the equally or even more violent Uncle Jasper could think of.

How could he think of that? I mean, Bella... Bella is mine!

And just because I thought she was a nice girl, I would lay low for a while and not get mixed in with her.

It would be hard, but with my criminal family, my crude best friend, and my dorkiness, she would be better off without me. Much better off.

I walked into the cafeteria at lunch, a bit disappointed that I still hadn't seen Bella yet. I hadn't seen her but whispers all around the school were going around about her.

"Have you seen the new girl? I think her names Isabella Swan?"

Or

"Isabella, the new girl, has two classes with me! I can't wait to find out if she's in my other classes."

Or even.

"That new girl Isabella is a babe! She's so hot. Let's make a bet. Whoever can shag her fir..."

I tuned that one out.

I cringed each time I heard them say 'Isabella'. I wanted to scream back at them, "It's Bella you idiot."

And the last comment made my blood curdle.

Jacob was trying to decipher my weird mood-swings as a pile of lumpy mash-potatoes got plopped onto my tray.

"Yum." I muttered as Jake and I sat down at our usual table, far away from everybody else and closest to the exit in case of 'emergency'. Then I can escape without too much notice.

I started fiddling with my food not feeling the need to consume it. The picture of the librarian in my mashed potatoes was really starting to look like something that should be thrown out immediately when Jake taped me on my shoulder.

"Dude... Edward... it's... it's," He stutter but I cut him off.

"I'm busy Jake," I said mindlessly.

He pouted and shrugged as he went back to his pizza, but he occasionally looked off at one of the tables.

A few seconds later, "Edward..."

I shrugged him off.

"It's... it's the... what's the new girls name?... Isabella right?"

I grimaced. "No, it's Bella."

"Same thing."

"No... It's not." I said still staring at my work of art.

"Well, whatever, but if you want to know she is looking right at me." Jacob said smugly.

"What?" I looked at him. "She's in the room?"

He nodded.

I snapped my head around to the exact table Bella was sitting at. I just saw a girl say the word 'Edward'.

I stared at the other girl for a second, then I figured out she's talking to Bella about me and my eyes slid over to that beautiful face that I recognize from Friday night.

They both blushed and turned away from me, embarrassed that I caught them looking at me.

"Dude!!" Jake moaned. "You scared 'em off. I almost had them!"

"Jacob." I shook my head. " They weren't looking at you. They were looking at me."

"Oh... we'll why would they do that?"

"The eternal question continues."

**A/N So, what do you think? Please review! I'll try to update as soon as I can but I'm not promising anything. : /**

**If you review you get an invisible cookie! I should have enough. I just made a batch! **


	6. Old Car and New Agent

I could tell that Bella looked at me periodically throughout lunch. I stared at her for a really long time, trying to control my feelings for her. I'm trying not to be so selfish. I hate my current life style at home... why should I mix Bell into it? I won't. I couldn't. It's not ethical.

I must have scared her or something by the agitation on my face. But I wasn't annoyed with her, I was annoyed with myself.

When lunch was over I sighed in relief, now time for Biology.

No one sat with me in that class. Probably because I'm such a dork, or I intimidate them... which is kind of pathetic because if they saw my brother, they wouldn't be so scared of me anymore.

But at least I had some privacy to think to myself.

I had gotten a hold on the whole -stay away from Bella- thing down. I could do that. This was a big school. I didn't have to talk to her if I saw her in the hallways. At lunch we sat at different tables. This could work. I didn't hate Bella or dislike her this was for her own...

Oh...

"Class, today we have a new student. A Miss Isabella Swan."

No.

No, no, no, no, no! This can't be happening. She HAS to sit with me now. I HAVE to talk to her now... wait... maybe I don't...

I cleared off the table instantly so she could sit down and put her books away. Bella looked at me and smiled. I couldn't help but smile back and say my 'hello's' but after that I was on lock down. I just went blank. There was a slight buzzing in my head but that was about it.

I don't know why but once the bell rang I grabbed my books and ran out of there.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did I do that? Now she think that I hate her or... she smells or something. Now, I'm hurting her in another way. This is just bad all around.

But why am I making such a big deal out of this...

Because I know that if I get any closer to her that i won't be able to control myself.

--

"Come on Cullen!" Jacob shouted from behind my Mazda.

"What? Don't you have your own car?"

"Nope." Jacob looked a bit happy about something. "My dad sold it to his old friend."

"OH, sorry about that. That really sucks."

"Actually it doesn't. Because that car was total crap. So now I can get a better one. And by 'get' I mean make." Then Jake smiled a smug smile. "But do you know who I saw driving my old car?"

He didn't leave time for me to answer.

"Bella Swan. Isn't that amazing! She's driving MY car."

"I thought you said it was total crap."

"Yes... but... it was my car and now she has it. So, the sweet smell of me is what she is now intoxicated with and will some day fall in love with me." He had this really gay dreamy look on him as he stared out into the sky.

He jerked his head down and rubbed his eyes. "Ouch... the sun."

I laughed as I pushed him into the car. "Come on."

--

"So what's new at the mob house?"

I stared horrified at him and clamped his mouth shut, swerving off the road.

I gave him a death stare and he understood what I meant, but he still looked bewildered. He never had to worry about saying anything in my car before.

I wrote down on a piece of paper as I was going down the HWY:

New Agent. Beefing up surveillance. not safe here.

Jake nodded, but after a little silence, he said "How do you know?"

I sighed. "We, I mean, my family has ways. They just know okay. We call him Agent Yawn." I looked back at him. "Anything else?"

"Yea, I wish I bugged my old car. Then I could hear Bella when she's driving."

"You are such a douche bag, Jake." I laughed trying not to let anger over whelm me.

I came up to his house and dropped him off.

"Thanks." He yelled back. "Oh, that new Marvel movie comes out Friday. Want to go see it with me?"

"Yeah, that would be awesome... oh wait... I have a... (cough)symphony(cough) to play at."

"A what?" Jake asked coming back to me now.

"I have something to go to that night."

"Oh." He hung his head.

"There'll be an after party later. I'm sure you can come to that."

His face perked up considerably. As he tried to walk back to his house trying to act all cool he yelled over his shoulder.

"Give me the details later."

He fail miserably at being suave. He's too lanky for that.

But the reminder of the symphony reminded me that I have to practice.

I decided I wouldn't self combust till Saturday.


	7. My Singer

**A/N okay, I know I haven't updated in a while. sorry. but here it is. and happy Mother's day!! Thank you FallinginsidetheBlack my beta. here ya go! (please review)**

FRIDAY NIGHT

This past week has been horrible! I'm sitting only a few inches from Bella, it's driving me crazy! Thank goodness for the weekend. But at the same time I had this buzzing in my chest each time I knew Bella was coming or would be near me. I tried to push down those feelings.

But alas, once I stopped pushing it arose again. But I'm not thinking of this right now. (Well, I'm not supposed to.) In ten minutes I'm going to be walking on that stage and performing. All the guest players got there own little room while they waited. The trumpet player already did his thing and now the violinist was getting her action. After her it would be my song, then a duet with me and the guest singer then her and the guest violinist.

My family thinks that I'm at a Frat party right now... well the uncles think I'm at a Frat party because there the only ones dumb enough to believe i could get invited to one of those. Carlisle and Esme know that I'm in a symphony tonight but have promised me not to come. I know I probably sound like a jerk. Not letting my parents come and whatnot. It's just that I feel so pressured when they are around me. Esme always wanting to do my best and be magnificent. Carlisle just watching smiling at me if I do good but terrorizing me if I fail. I can't handle that right now.

I love them both like nothing else... but this... this is for me.

"You're up in five minutes." A guy in a black suit said with his head popping into my room.

"Okay." I breathed.

For the reminder of those five minutes. I just breathed and went through the music in my head. What's crap is that we had no practice time for the duets. So I have no idea what the singer is going to do or... anything. I'm just doing what the sheet said. but now I don't even have that. It's just my memory. Don't screw it up! why am I freaking out? This is like walking in a park... that's slightly uphill... on a really windy afternoon... and it's snowing like crazy. But other than that just a walk in the park. i know all of my notes. I've gotten the rhythm down. And the dynamics are making this piece come to life. I've been playing this song since I was fourteen.

But I'm really worried about the duet with the singer. She could add syncopation and screw me up, or get to number five volume when I'm getting softer... things aren't supposed to happen like this. We're supposed to have rehearsals together. Sure I had rehearsals with the whole symphony but not the vocalist. I don't know how we can pull this off.

But. I'm thinking positive... If I screw up. It's all her fault.

"Come with me Mr. Cullen."

That name. Ugh, that name, when my name is going to be announced I'll probably have every agent in the tri-state tuning in.

Great. Now I have to impress the feds too.

I smiled to myself as I walked on stage.

**(If you want to you can listen along, on you tube look for, Yundi Li-Chopin -Fantasie Imprmptu, that's probably the best one)**

I sat down at the plush piano bench. Waiting for the signal from the conductor I placed my hands on starting notes.

He waved his hands and mine in return pressed the first notes with my left hand. then my right hand joined playing the beautiful melody.

I closed my eyes to flow with the complex movements my hands we making. Not even barely understanding how they are doing what they are doing. I just know that they are doing it. Then the left hand took action. Up and down the piano my hands scaled the keys like they were nothing. It was an automatic beauty. My fingers flew to their notes at I speed that was crazy but beautiful. Everything was beautiful. It was just me and the piano. No one else. Softer I grew, just barely taping the notes. Making it sound like fairy wings. I got louder and descended in my tone. My fingers flying to the high notes and then back down. Again and again.

The darkness took a hold as the minor sound took dominance in one big wave but it died out. and now a beautiful bridge was playing. My body is swaying to the music. My are eyes open now but I still don't see anything. I'm just concentrating on every note every technique every dynamic and every feeling. I heard nothing on the stage but me and I saw nothing on the stage but my fingers and their keys. The sweet melody played along making me think of sunshine and fields and daffodils. I didn't care if it was stupid or silly. This was my music. This was me. What I love. But all too soon the happiness ended as I got softer to make the minor sound a little less of a shock. No one but me. This was my thing. The only thoughts that went through my head were dozens of sheet music, notes, dynamic changes, key changes, tempo changes, the melody the background, my left hand, my right hand. Breathing. It was just my world. My time. My passion. The sound I created was my version of heaven. The sweet music filled my ears with every second the emotion I have changed with every note. Almost as if instead if taping on the keys my fingers were taping on my heat. Playing something different with every gentle stroke, every gentle twirl. It was magnificent. I could tell the difference from playing here in this hall than in my room. The notes resonated around the oval stage perfectly. Drawing everyone's attention to me. It was like my fingers were on steroids with two cups of coffee on that. The music flowed from my fingers. Getting louder and more serious. My fingers began their fast pace again. My hands ached from the constant arch they held but I played on like my life depended on it. The notes just seemed to come from thin air. it couldn't be possible that they could move that fast. Then this haunting tune began to play, it was my favourite part. but it ended soon and changed into a lower happy tune and then before I knew it. It was over.

The applause I heard scared me. I forgot all about them. I forgot I was here. I forgot all my worries. But now they flooded on me again.

Oh crap.

My hands started to shake. This was the first time I saw the crowd. I didn't think there would be so many. I slowed my breathing. They liked it. They like me. Okay, I can do this. My confidence was growing.

I got up and took a bow.

The sweat on my neck was only soaking through my undershirt. No biggy.

I sat back down again ready for the next song. Ready to fail with the vocalist. If I go down she's going down with me.

I looked back at the conductor. I didn't even want to see her face. That would just make it worse.

Just me and my piano. I tried to say... but it wasn't just me now. It was this... girl too. I bet she's the one that's going to screw up. Yeah, that's right. Singers are always doing something weird to the music. That's how Amazing Grace got so botched up. once a simple powerful piece now it's a trill filled funeral/American Idol auditioning song.

I was feeling better now that I was hating on the vocalist. It was wrong but it was helping me and she'd never know about it.

The next song was called Hijo de la Luna. Which translates into Son of the Moon. It's song in Spanish and it's one of my favourite song choices. It wasn't really a duet. I just played behind the singer. It wasn't a difficult piece on the piano either. But it was pretty.

**(Hijo de la Luna. look for it from 1Genial, best one that fit)**

The conductor waved his hands and I started.

A tambourine also played in the background.

Then the haunting voice of the singer joined in. It was a soft whisper which made it even more provoking. The symphony behind me would play in different parts as well.

Without noticing it I found myself in a trance with the voice flowing out from this unknown girl.

Since my part wasn't hard I decided to look at her. Her hair was down and curled. Her dress was red and flowing. The back scooped. Giving me an excellent look at her smooth porcelain skin. It looked expensive but vintage. I liked that.

I couldn't see her front but she looked really familiar. I racked my brain trying to figure it out why I had a since of... destiny.

I saw the conductor from the corner of my eye. He was waving his arms very strongly at my direction.

I looked down and my hands weren't playing anything. I instantly got back into it.

I blushed embarrassed at the trance I entered from seeing and hearing her. I found my bubble again and started playing with as much feeling I had at that moment. It was now enhanced with the mystery this girl provided me.

But it wasn't just me and the piano in the bubble now... it was her and her voice. She sang and I played together perfectly now. Every thing balanced. She sang aggressive I played aggressive, she sang softer... I played sweetly. We fit together. Making an impossible beauty. We matched each other perfectly. Every note we each played bounced off and blended. It was remarkable. I didn't want it to end.

The song itself was enchanting but with her voice and my passion we made it bewitching and seductive.

I didn't even hear the orchestra in the background. Just the piano, her and me. All I heard. All there was. All there needed to be. All I wanted.

I never wanted this to end.

But sadly it did.

I emerged from my bubble and again heard rounds and rounds of clapping. My confidence was now peaked. I smiled and got up from my bench and bowed. The conductor waved his hands to the vocalist and she bowed.

I stared at her for a while. She turned to me and smiled as did I. Until I saw who it was.

Bella? She... she sang that?... I oh crap. God had a funny sense of humor. I'm trying to do the right thing and then he gives me this? Oh Bella, Bella, Bella.

She looked confused from my expression. I smiled at her and turned to my piano again. One more song with everybody and then the after party. Then I could talk to my singer.

The next song was Think of Me from Phantom of the Opera. Shortened.

It should only last a minute or two and then I could go home, get out of this bowtie and this really shiny shoes, then pick up Jacob then come back.

The conductor waved his baton and Bella started singing. Oh, how she pulled on my heart strings. I could have ignored her, I could have kept my distance from her... if I didn't hear her voice. Now, now, I can't even think of it.

My part was simple on this one. I just played some high cords over and over again. No one even heard me.

All too soon it ended. All the guest performers we supposed to bow in front of everyone.

I wanted to stand by Bella but that stupid nerdy trumpet kid bumped me to the side. He smiled at me showing his ugly teeth and his acnefied face.

We bowed and then stood around for applause and photos and stupid stuff as the such.

I left quickly, the sooner I leave the sooner I can come back.

I can't keep ignoring her. Not anymore.

Not My Singer.


	8. Calling all Call Girls

**Yea, okay, last chapter wasn't much of a funny one... but this one is. so enjoy! Please review. it makes me really happy and I write more!**

"MOM? DAD?" I yelled as I entered the house. Hmm.. I guess no ones home. I walk into the living room where I hear the T.V. on.

"Oh, hey, Emmett... Where is everybody?"

"Out." He gave me one of those looks that meant I'm supposed to zip it.

"Okay, well I'm going over to pick up Jacob, then I'll be back by... whenever."

"Okay, oh and before you go to Jake's, could you deliver something to somebody for me. She was an old friend of mine. It has nothing to do with my job, just personal. Would that be okay?"

"Sure I guess. What is it?"

"Oh... umm... it's... uh... it's a book." He picked up a book from beside him.

"Emmett... that's mine."

"Oh, it sure is. Damn, I guess I forgot it. Well could you still go over there and tell her that I meant to bring it to her..."

"Ugh, fine."

"Thanks bro."

So I pull up to the address Emmett gave me. It was his old apartment complex he used to live in before he decided that home was where the heart is. What can I say, for a tough mobster guy he can get really lonely.

But I looked at the address. It was the exact same as his old apartment.

I didn't want to think to much about it. Feeling a little awkward, I knocked on the door. A female voice inside said to come in.

I opened the door and a red hot female was standing in the living room. Her sandy-blonde hair waved gently to her mid-back. Her eyes were a startling blue. The red lipstick she wore matched her sweeter top, which was an inch shy of meeting the top of her skinny jeans.

"Whoa." I couldn't help but blurt out. Yea, I know. Jerk, testosterone ,Y-chromozone fiend. But if some guys I know were in my place their lips would already be devouring ever inch of her body.

"Hello." She smiled coolly. "You must be Edward."

"Yea, hi, and... you are?"

"Tanya. Nice to meet you Edward."

"Yea... um... well... I just... I just came... came here to... to tell," She was walking towards me, her hips were swaying sending my heart beating ninety miles per hour.

"Yes?" Tanya purred.

"IjustcametotellyouthatEmmettforgotthebook." I let out in a gush.

She pulled up short. "What book." She paused for a little while. ''Ohhhh. Well, forget about the book, I'm not interested in that anymore." Her hands combed through my hair. "Hmm... you look tense, let me message that out."

All I could do was nod.

Wow that felt good. I took a deep breath to clear my head. And that's when it hit me. I had forgotten about Bella. Sudden guilt flooded into me. This was wrong. I don't even know this girl.

I turned to her to tell her that I had to go and that it was nice meeting her. But what I saw made my jaw drop.

She had pulled her shirt off. Tanya smiled at me. "It was getting kind of hot in here." She justified her actions.

Her bare skin made my eye stay glued to her. I couldn't even move. It was like she had me under some sort of spell.

She came near me again, and I moved as far back from the seat as I could. Crouching down to my level her hands started gliding up my thighs.

I think at this point everything just shut down. I wasn't even thinking, moving, hearing, and possibly even breathing.

Finding their targeting and griping on, her hands pulled up on my shirt.

I was brain dead for about two seconds when everything started crashing back to me and I rebooted.

I jumped out of my chair and flew to the other side of the room. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU"RE DOING!!" I yelled in surprise, my normal mannerly self thrown out the window.

"Silly Edward." She purred, looking shocked herself. "Tonight I am all yours."

I didn't even want to think what that meant. But too late.

"I think there is a misunderstanding..." I breathed. An image of me and her flew through my head.

"I don't think there is any error at all." She smiled at me as she advanced once again. Looking at my face she laughed a little. "This is your first time isn't it?" I nodded like a hungry lost child. "It's okay, I'll be easy on you." She smirked.

I nodded again then realization hit me... again and that nod turned into a shake. "No." I stated. My voice almost fully recovered. "I can't." I wanted my first time to mean something, not some one night stand with someone I'd never see again. I wanted it to be special. And after knowing Bella and hearing her sing, no one else would satisfy me. I just had to remember her.

Tanya looked pissed off.

"Sorry, but I don't want it to happen like this." I grabbed my jacket and left. Not even looking back.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You're an idiot Edward!" Jacob cried out as I drove back to the arena. "You could have had some of the best sex out there and you denied it? Edward! Come on!! You're horrible at this Edward." He shook his head in disbelief. "She was right there! Right there Edward! Willingly ready to let you nail her and what do you do?" He pulled on a mock voice. "Nah, I don't want it like this.' You idiot!"

"Jacob." I said calmly. He turned to me. "Shut up. You weren't there. It was like she was a predator and I was her prey, it was disturbing."

"Oh, Edward. Do you not realize how hot that is? I'm just geeking out about it! If I was there she wouldn't even have to say a word." He licked his lips.

"You're sick Jacob. I didn't want that to happen that way."

"Well, you are delusional. You are a terrible person to live vicariously through. You're fired Edward."

There was silence the rest of the car ride. I pulled into a parking spot and before Jacob got out he looked at me. "Is there going to be booze at this thing?"

I looked at him seriously. "I think there is a Russian who's name is Boozie."

Jacob sighed. "Close enough."


	9. Underage Drinking is Bad For Your Brain

**A/N This chapter is pretty cool I guess. kind of random. I love random! Be sure to keep track of the wine glass. and please review. I really really really want you guys to review!**

I tried with all my might to get that image of Tanya out of my head but it kept popping back up like an evil pimple. It was a very traumatizing for me. The sad thing was... This wasn't just some fluke thing. It was planned. Not by my nemeses. Or that creepy guy in the ice-cream truck. But my brother. Remember what I said earlier about how if you screw something up you have to pay for it. Like if Uncle Rosalie bashed the TV we had she would have to replace it and preferably something bigger and better. Well, okay, do you remember that first awful date with Jessica Stanley that didn't end up to well? Yeah, apparently, Emmett robed me of sex... so he had to repay me...

Not cool. My family has very weird ethics. I'm sure it's very amusing to a third person viewer. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to rid the loathing and awkward feelings I know obtained, as I walked into the huge rented out room at Hilton hotel in Manchester.

"Wow." Jacob said while walking backwards, getting a good look at every detail of the ceiling. I caught him right before he ran into a waitress holding shrimp cocktail. I laughed.

No matter what kind of mood I am in Jacob can always make me laugh and get out of it. Even though his thoughts are very perverted. I know Jake so well, it's as if I can read his mind. Which... sometimes, I really wish I couldn't.

"Steady boy." I patted him on the back while my eyes scouted the room for my Bella. I shook my head. My Bella. I'm becoming obsessed. I don't even know the girl. She could have a horrible personality. Like ... a whore, or a slut, or some getto person. I barely even spoke four words to her. And that was last week. And she probably thinks I hate her or something from ignoring her all this time. Wow. Just wow. Well. I am in a pickle.

I need to scourer the room for her. So, I looked over my shoulder to find Jacob awkwardly flirting with some Asian cello player. I smirked as her face was twisted up and her eye-brows raised. Good ole Jacob. I just left him to it.

Leaving Jake behind, I dodged in between people and snaked my way through the tables. For some weird reason a glass of wine was put in my hand. One second it's not there the next it is. Weird. But hey, it was handed to me. I took a swig. I almost gagged right there. But I kept it all in control. Then I took another swing. It was awful but I couldn't stop. I still couldn't find her. Maybe she left? My heart sagged at the thought. But then I heard it. That voice I heard out in the parking lot. "Ever since I was three." Was what I heard.

I finally saw her talking to some dude that looked to be about twenty... three. Talking... and _leaning_ towards Bella. I just stood back a little listening in. "Well, it was amazing. So... um I was wondering." His eyes tried to penetrate Bella's but she didn't seem to notice or care. "Do you want to go out sometime I mean-"

"Oh, hey, babe. There you are. I was wondering where you went off to. Here's your drink you wanted." I slung my arm around Bella's shoulder and handed her the half drunk from glass.

"Oh I'm so sorry hon. I thought I saw someone over here but it was no one I knew. Thanks."

She took a sip from the wine and contorted her face. "Wow. That's uh... that's some good stuff." She handed the glass back to me. I took another swig. It was like an addictive. "So... who is this?" I eyed the guy watching us with meaning.

"Oh... this... um... this is..."

"Tyler." He stated.

"Well. Tyler," I sneered his name. "did you like the concert?"

"Yeah, I did." He blushed a little as I tightened my grip on Bella.

"Well, my _girlfriend_ is the best. I don't think she's ever done better." I touched her nose playfully. I was getting to much fun out of this.

"So... you guys are going out, huh?" Tyler rocked back on his heels.

"Yes." Bella said. "Is there a problem?"

"No... no... are you really going out?" The kid couldn't get it through his head.

"Yes. We are. Now, if you'll excuse us. I just realized I got Bella the wrong drink. Sorry pumpkin. And you acted like it was all right." I patted her hand. Not taking it any further than necessary. And with that we walked away. Once we were far, far away. I dropped my arm and smiled crookedly at Bella.

"Thanks." Bella sighed, relieved. "He was the third one this night. The first two didn't go so nicely as that one did. Thanks." Bella smiled back. I kept my distance not wanting to scare her off to quickly, plus, I really didn't know anything about her.

"My pleasure." I smirked. I took another sip from my wine glass, only to realize it was empty.

"You really like that stuff don't you." Bella laughed.

"I absolutely detest it but it's bitter enough it keep me on my toes." I winked at her. After a pause I looked down at her seriously. "So, you're a professional singer?"

"I guess so."

I shook my head. What are the chances?

"So, you're a pianist?"

"I guess so." I repeated. "How did you get into this?" I asked waving my hand at all the people in the room.

"My mom. While dad was at work, we used to put in the Phantom of the Opera CD and just burst out singing. One day mom looked at me and was like. 'Did you just sing like that?' then next thing I know I was put in private lessons and went to classical music classes and this and that and work camps and coaches and for two years even an opera school." Bella shook her head and sighed. "But I told them I was losing my childhood and that I should slow down. Being the only child of course. It was perfect timing too. Dad just got a steady job down here." I opened my mouth to ask what he did. But she stopped me with her question. "So how did _you_ get into this?" She waved her arm around at all the people in the room.

"Very awkwardly. Purely by accident." I took a sip from my somehow full wine glass again.

"What do you mean, by accident?"

I shrugged. "I'm the only musically talented one in my family. It was a mistake. I had to hide if for a while."

"Wow. I could't imagine that. My family is always there to support me in my endeavors no matter what they are. I can't imagine."

"Yeah, well." I shrugged.

"Well, you are amazing all the same. And without all the support that I'm used to... more power to you. It was great Edward. I seriously can't even think about doing what you did out there. All I do is sing. You… you Edward. Wow." A fire built deep inside of me as she said my name like that.

"Did you want to move here?" I asked, wanting to get as far away from the topic of my family as much as possible.

"I did't really care. I don't have a lot of friends back home. Well, probably because I never really had a home. Because of my dad's job. But he's moved up some or something and now I think I'm here for good. But I like it here. So... it's all good." She smiled at me. I didn't let it pass that both of us got shoved together a little closer as people bumped into us and once they were gone we didn't step back again.

"So... what does your dad do?" I hated that question but surely nobody's parents' job could be as bad as mine.

"He works for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. That's right folks. My dad is an F.B.I Agent."

I don't know why, I don't know how, and don't really remember anything thing except that in less than a second after she said those words my lips crashed against hers. The feeling of her soft full lips under mine was amazing. She seemed shocked at first and then confused and then finally she put her hands around my neck and kissed me back. Our lips moved together faster and faster. My hand crept along her check and grabbed a hold of the back of her head pulling her even closer. She didn't object. Why was I making out with a girl I barely knew in a crowded ballroom filled with snobs? One word. Rebellion. Not because this was Bella. The enchanting girl I was madly obsessed with. Anything that had any negative effect on dad's career I did it. This. This was the whip-cream. Making out with a fed baby. I know. Again with the jerkiness. But she didn't seem to mind. I felt her pull back on my hand but it didn't budged. yeah, piano hands. But I let her go anyhow. Bella took a long exaggerated breath.

"Wow." She breathed trying to slow her panting heart. I smiled and shook my hair out a little waiting for a bigger response than that. We just stared at each other for a minute, controlling our breathing.

"That was... was... wow... um..." I blinked. "Sorry." Lie. "I don't know what came over me." Lie. "I.. uh..."

"It's... it's fine." Bella smiled shyly. "It happens." She smirked. I took a swig from my wine glass that somehow didn't spill a drop with my mini make out session with my singer. I didn't really know what to say. It was the first time I was ever at a loss for words. I racked my brain but the only words that came out were, "My shoe itches." Wow. That's great. That is really great.. Bella just nodded her head slowly looking around.

"Wow yea. Um, it's the wine." I picked up my hand to show the wine glass but it wasn't there. What the crap?!

"Yeah, well... so, I'm gonna go." Bella started backing up. I nodded my head sadly. "Sorry." I mumbled. "I'm going crazy. Just a matter of time I guess before the nut house gets a new 'Frank Sinatra' as their occupant." Bella laughed. I didn't even think she heard me.

"It's okay really. I'll see you on Monday. But I really have to go. I think some of my dad's friends came." She looked around at the crowd.

"OH, okay, gotcha, gotcha." I backed up, watching until her red dress disappeared in a sea of black. She looked back at me a few times and blushed. I bumped into somebody.

"Heeyyyyy!" A familiar voice slurred. "Whatch ure youuu doin sheree." Jacob moved awkwardly in front of me.

"I live here." I said dully.

He looked at me seriously. "Oh dude. You have massive amounts of cleaning to do after this." He shook his head.  
"Nice place. Very... roomy... except there isn't any room." He leaned on me. How could he get this hammered from a few glasses of wine? Only Jacob could accomplish such a feat.

"Come on." I sighed reaching over to pull his arm around. The wine glass was suddenly in my hands again. I stared at my hand amazingly with wide eyes. I sighed. If I was going to go crazy I might as well get some help from the vineyard and I gulped down the whole thing. "Alright Jacob, it's time to go away." He looked sad. "There are evil people in here and they are all out to get you so we better leave as quickly as possible." That made him almost leap from me and I had to pick up the pace. I ran into a bunch of people, not letting go of either Jacob or my wine glass. Finally I made it to the exit.

Somebody at the door stopped me. "Are you the driver?" he asked me.

"Yes." I tried to get Jacob in a more comfortable position.

"Have you drunk from that?" He pointed to the full wine glass in my hands.

"Nope." I lied once the amazement wiped off from my face. He took the glass away from me. It kind of made me sad. That was my magic wine glass.

"All right. Your names?"

"Why?"

"So we can mark you off that you have left."

"Alright." I sighed. Names, names. what is with everyone wanted to communicate properly? "Jacob Black and... Edward." He raised his eyebrows. "Edward... Cullen." I sighed.

I didn't even have to see the dozen eyes zooming in on me at that moment.

"Alright, you may go. Have a pleasant evening, I hope you enjoyed yourselves."

"To much thank you." I pulled on Jacob. I really needed to get out of there as fast as possible.

I put Jacob in his seat and I tried to buckle him up but he yelled at me saying he would do it. Fag.

This is going to be a long miserable ride home.

I got in my car and reached for the wine glass in my cup holder.

**A/N and that my friends is the end of this chapter. what do you think. comments? questions? nonsense you need to get out of your system? review! review like the wind!**

- Rosalie


	10. Lousy FBI Agents

**Wow, I haven't updated in awhile. well, here you go.**

* * *

"You've got to ask her out." Jacob had said for the seventh time and third period hasn't even started.

"Come on! She's into you." He persists.

"Jake, there was a lot of people there, nerves were just getting everybody..." I retorted. "People do strange things, including me."

"Look, you blew it with Jessica. You blew it with Tanya. You have to make something happen with Bella. You owe it to me."

"Even if she liked me - which she doesn't. What I'm I supposed to do? Ask her over to my house? My place is bugged and I really don't think Mr. Swan would be happy to hear his daughter over his surveillance equipment."

Jake shrugs. "She has a house."

"He lives there!" I exploded.

"Not all day," Jake reasons. "Those guys put in big hours. It's a lot of work investigating a major underworld kingpin."

I let that comment pass. "Look I have to go to trig. I'll see you at lunch."

"Edward Cullen. Come to the front of the class." Mrs. Hanns commanded. "Please work this problem."

Trigonometry. I was perfect... sort of... in every other subject but math. My brain just doesn't accept it. It sucks too because I try really hard to get it right, but it just never works out. So of course Mrs. Hanns had to pick me because I'm the stupid math kid... but not today! I knew this problem. I don't know why, but I knew how to figure it out.

"Okay, well sin a equals two T over one plus T to the second. Hmm... well, you have to... change this by added this to both sides then that becomes an equasion... put that around it add the to exponets get rid of the T and there you have it. Cos a equals 2 to the forth power."

I smiled at the class as I put the chalk down. I actually got it! I turned to the teacher. I expected her to be angry or confused... but disgusted? That ain't right fellas, that ain't right.

"What?" I asked. As she stared at me with a horrible expression on her face.

"Very good Mr. Cullen but um... I think you should see the nurse." Her voice quivered and she paled.

I fingered through my hair and my hand came out with little white squirmy things on them.

"Ew." I stated and ran out of the class grabbing a hall pass on my way out.

"Gross, gross, gross, gross. How did I get lice?" I exclaimed to myself as I neared the nurses office.

I spoke to the lady but I'd have to wait, the nurse was already seeing somebody...no doubt making out with somebody.

I sat down on the bench and put my head in my hands. Ugh, how on earth-

"Hey." A weary Bella spoke.

I looked up and saw her sit next to me, sporting a hat that covered all of her hair/

Of course. If butterflies can fly from Brazil to up here than I guess a dedicated louse can hop from one strand of Bella's hair to mine during our brief but memorable make out session. Dad must have said it a million times. "Those lousy FBI agents!"

I looked down. I wasn't sure how I felt about that kiss. It was kind of pathetic of me but I have to saw I really liked it... but now... it gave me lice.

We didn't say anything. just remained silent. Awkward.

"Edward Cullen." The generic voice of a crabby lady called me.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"I didn't even know they were there!"

"You can't feel lice. They are to tiny. The discomfort you are feeling is an allergic reaction from the lice's ficus."

Well that makes me feel so much better.

"Alright so you need a nit comb, lice shampoo, and medication. We have a bottle of medication here for you, but you'll have to go to the drug store for the shampoo and comb. And here is your permission slip to miss school today."

"Thanks." I mumbled as I stepped out of the office. Bella wasn't there so I went on out of the building, heading for the parking lot.

I was about to drive away when I saw Bella standing in front of the bus stop. I'm guessing she's going to get the same lice terminator gunk I am. At first I feel sympathetic. It would take three buses to go to CVS. But then... she is the one that gave it to me. I mean, it's not like we had a long term relationship. We made out once... you know, how was I supposed to know that she wasn't those types that hop from guy to guy spreading cooties like some sick head-lice Typhoid Mary.

But I relax. This is Bella.

"Hi." I rolled down the window.

"Hey." She said miserably.

I take a deep breath. "I think we are going to the same place. Hop in."

"I don't know what you're talking about." she said stubbornly.

In the vending Machine business I believe the apporpraite line here would be; you can either ride in the car or at the end of the rope behind it. Your choice.

Fortunately, I'm a civilian. "Right, right. Well, I'm going to the drug store to get something. I guess I was just under the impression that you were too. Weird my first impressions are normally right." I paused. Now I was sounded like a jack-ass. "Look, Bella, just let me drive you to the drugstore."

Avoiding my eyes, she gets in the car.

The silence along the drive is insufferable. But what is there to say? 'I'm ingested; how about you?'

She blurted out as I stopped the car. "I have a tradition before I go on stage I wear my hat."

"Oh-uh-that's nice-"

"That's where the lice are from," she explains. "I left my hat at home and I really felt uncomfortable with out wearing one back stage so I borrowed one from this guy. And you got it when we..." Her voice trails off.

"Don't worry about it. It's fine. It's not incurable." I said gallantly.

Well, it my be curable but it's not cheap.

"Oh uh." Bella said rummaging through her purse.

I checked in my wallet. Hmm... forty three dollars. Not enough for all this stuff and defiantly not enough to help Bella. I did have a credit card I use for emergency's. I'm not quite sure how legit this is. But the issuing bank doesn't exactly inspire confidence: Banco Commerciale de Tijuana. I don't know how much they'd appreciate their hard-earned pesos going to pay for my delousing.

"We can split it," Bella suggests shyly. "You know, buy just one set. I think we've got enough money for that."

"But-" A dozen promblems come to mind.

"My parents both work," she says. "I think we'll be finished by the time they get home."

It comes to sixty-one. We get an extra comb so we can both have one.

I pull up to her house. It's a pretty nice neighborhood. But it's painfully obvious FBI agents don't make as much as the people they are investigating do. Le Chateau Cullen has eight thousand square feet and a four-car garage, even though, according to DMV records, I am the only family member who actually owns a car.

It's so weird being in Agent Yawn's house. So this is where the guy is when not listening to my family pass gas.

Bella changes upstairs into an old jogging suit and tosses me a faded sweatshirt. "This is my dad's. See if it fits."

I put it on and examine myself in the mirror. Across my chest reads FBI. Me, Edward Cullen. This is like Captain Ahab in a Save the Whales T-shirt.

We get started and rub this awful smelling shampoo into our hair. It's really awful. I left it in there for about ten minutes then rinsed it off and sprayed something in my hair and put this medicine in it. It's supposed to be left in there for a good twenty minutes, the max is thirty.

It's kind of awkward. I have nothing really in common with Bella except head-lice. So we spend the time spraying our clothes with anti-egg crap. Then we went up stairs to do her bed stuff.

We were just about to head back to the basement to rinse the stuff out in the laundry sink when the door opens and a voice called. "Anybody home?"

"Oh crap. My dad's here. I didn't want him to know about this."

She doesn't want him to know about this? That goes quadruple for me! I mean, doesn't every FBI agent dream of the day that he gets home early and walks in on his daughter washing her hair in the company of a mobster's son?

"I gotta get out of here."

"Don't I wish," Bella agrees.

"No really!" I look around. The window is the only way out, but the backyard is sloped, so there's a ten-foot drop to the ground.

I'm wighing the idea of two broken ankles when I spot it. The bedroom next door is located aboce a screened-in porch. I can get out onto the porch roof and climb down from there. I run to her parent's room.

Bella follows me. "I was kidding. It's not the end of the world."

But I'm already climbing up on the night table to get to the window. My foot knocks over a tube of Preparation H, I have an insane desire to laugh. It seems only fair that I know something embarrassing about Agent Yawn after he's been spying on my family all this time.

Foot steps stopped me from laughing and I jumped the four foot drop to the flat roof.

"But we're not finished yet!"

"Save my half of the stuff," I call up to her. I climb onto the drainpipe and heave myself over the side. The gutter comes away from the wall, and I crash painfully to the ground. I thought that only happens in the movies.

I considered trying to fix it but I heard Bella say. "You're home early, Dad."

I just ran. With any luck, the guy isn't a very good FBI agent and won't lift my sneaker prints off his tube of Preparation H.

My heart beat is back to normal as I reach the end of the driveway. I go through the back door. I have no desire to explain what's in my hair. But dad catches me as I make for the stairs. But it isn't the hair that he notices.

"Edward! Where did you get that shirt?"

Heart sinking I look down, already knowing what I'm going to find. I'm still wearing Agent Yawn's sweatshirt. My chest is a billboard for the FBI.

"That's priceless." Carlisle howls, helpless with laughter. "Can you get a couple for me and Emmett? Better yet, a bunch. Some of your uncles would drop dead over them!"

I mumble something incorhent about a novelty shop in the city and try to head up the stairs but he gets a good clean look at me... and smell.

"Jeez Edward, when I was your age, I put grease in my hair, and that was bad enough. But you smell like a mortuary."

**So, what do you think? Do you want more? And yes this chapter was striclty based off of the... seventh chapter in Son of a Mob. (i think it was seventh) anywho, review like the wind peoples! (any ideas on what i should do sometime...)**

- Rosalie


	11. Sorry guys

**I'm so sorry guys. I won't be updating for a long time. I don't know when or how long it will be, hopefully less then three weeks. But I have other stuff, and other stories that place higher on the scale. I'm really really sorry.**

I love this story but right now I don't have the vibe for it. But don't worry, I'll get back to it and it'll be better than ever! In the meantime. Check out my other stories... or I don't know get a milkshake. lol

I'll try hard to get back to this one.

- Rosalie


	12. Girl's Just Want to Have Fun

**I'm back! No I didn't forget this story. Those three weeks lasted a bit longer than I expected. Sorry. But I'm here now and ready to give you kick butt fanfic!** and an invisible milkshake for being paitent.

So read on my readers. Read on.

* * *

That lice gunk was only supposed to be in my hair thirty minutes... but thanks to the little interruption by mister FBI agent the stuff was in my hair for at least seventy minutes. Those suckers are long gone... and so is my scalp. My head has definitely seen better days.

Instead of going to school the next morning, which I'm not even allowed to go near the place until six o'clock the next night, I pretend to get ready to go to school and start driving nowhere. Then the idea comes to me. I'm still not done with the delousing. Bella has all my stuff that we are supposed to share, even though there is no way that anything can be alive in my head right now. It's a good excuse to see Bella again. So, I drive around until it's about nine o'clock and then head over to the Swan resident, though I park two blocks away. I really don't think that Agent Swan would be happy to find out that a Cullen is visiting his daughter. His voice still rings in my head. He sounds like a nice guy... a nice creepy guy that spies on my family. When I walk up to there drive way, I see the Secure-o-Matic van there.

Bella is alone, except for the guys installing the security alarms. "Dad thinks that a burglar tried to escape from the patio yesterday." Bella explained to me with a smirk.

"Yeah, there are a lot of wacko's out there." I said with a straight face. "Good thing the FBI is on the job." I held on a bag to her. "This is your dad's shirt."

Then she proceed to bring me down to there basement. I noticed the sly looks on the installing guys as we walked down there. But this was strictly business, I had to finish the delousing. We rub egg-shampoo in each others heads and rinse it off in the sink and all other such stuff. Yet, they still snicker like we were going to do something naughty.

It was all going smooth until Bella brought up yesterday. "You know, my folks know that I'm not a little girl anymore. You didn't have to be all James Bond andmiraculously save yourself."

I wanted to laugh. She thought I was James Bond. Ironic. "Hey, federal agents are armed." I tried to make a joke out of it.

She laughed. It was beautiful. I wanted her to do it again... but that's really creepy.

"I know he carries a gun. But I've never seen it. I think he tries really hard to keep his work separate from his home life. I guess he rubs elbows with some really bad guys."

Like my nearest and dearest.

I rush to try and change the subject. "Is that a karaoke machine?" I said baffled looked at the stereo's and audio equipment, trying to picture Agent Yawn singing 'Girl's Just Want to Have Fun.'

"No it's recording equipment." She looked down at her shoes but had a proud smile on her face. Mine in returned softened. I new feeling entered me. I remember her singing at the concert. "Play something." I whisper, encouragingly.

She shook her head.

"Why not." I look at her eyes, and when she turned her head away I put my hands up and held her chin, forcing her to look at me. I smiled.

She sighed and we made a compromise. She would play one of her tapes she's made. Which were a lot of tapes, if all the racks on the shelf are only her. And I wouldn't laugh, or smile, or smirk, or frown. So I turned into a zombie while she hit play. My unresponsive face didn't last long. How was I supposed to do that when the voice of a low angel eased out of the speakers.

I applaud when the song is over, but Bella hits stop and refuses to play another song.

"Come on!" I smile. "You're awesome. I want to hear another one."

She hits on the head with one of the cassettes. And it actually hurt. My head is still sore from the seventy minutes exterminator in my hair yesterday. But I don't complain because there is something new between us. A different atmosphere in air. It's exciting and irresistible, and at the same time terrifying.

I grab her around her shoulders and snatch the plastic box away from her hands. "You're going to pay for that." I growl and with my other hand scoop up her legs and swing her into their couch.

She playfully screamed as she got up quickly and ran to the other side of the couch. We both knew we weren't fighting, and whatever is going on has nothing to do with the cassette tape.

I stalk around to her and quickly grab her up and plant kisses on her neck, pretending to eat her.

She sighed and raised my head up to hers.

By the time we start kissing it's like our make-out session at the concert was a half-speed workout with no tackling. We sing to the couch, breathing as if we've just run a mile.

It's almost like I'm two people. One of them is Marco Polo, determined to advance, explore, experience. The other is a real pain in the butt who can't stop thinking, ' This is Agent Ywan's daughter: this is Agent Yawn's house: this is Agent Yawn's couch.

I don't know who her two people are, but one of them makes a small sound in the back of her throat.

This is Agent Yawn's floor, the pain in the butt reminds me as we topple off the couch.

Shut up! snaps Marco Polo. By this time, he's really running the show.

Even I'm wondering how far all this might go when the guys from Secure-o-matic decide to test the new burglar alarm.

To say we hit the ceiling is to understate the matter. When we come back to earth, she's on one side of the basement, and I'm on the other. If I look as shocked as shedoes, we are one stunned pair. It's completely illogical, but both of us are thinking the same thing, that we generated enough steam to set off the smoke detector.

Then the buzzer stops and a voice from upstairs calls, "Just a test. Sorry."

This is accompanied by strangled laughter. I'm enraged, but I've got to hand it to those guy. They knew what we were up to when we headed down-stairs before we did. I wouldn't hire them to alarm my house, but if I ever need a mind reader, I won't go to the lady with the tarot cards.

Bella just says, "Wow," and I nod. But neither of us knows what comes next.

Bella calls up the stairs, "You guys are almost done, right/"

"A few more hours to go, miss." More laughing.

I'm ready to hang out all day waiting for them to leave, but Kendra has a story to write for the Jefferson Journal- an expose on which teachers five out the most A's.

"They'll never let you print it," I predict.

She sighs. "Probably not. but I have to try. Teachers ramble on and on about freedom of the press, but God help you if you actually try to use it. Which reminds me-you never answered my question about why you quit the soccer team."

Yikes. "Uh-you had it right the first time. Cach Bronski- the guy's a fascist." a silent apology to the coach, who's probably a really nice guy.

"Wow. That must have really took guts." Then she tried to convince me to let her do a follow up piece.

"uh, no, it's really nothing. I'm using the extra time to concentrate on other things." At the moment the only thing I can concentrate on is Bella.

Leaving is awkward, and the presence of the secure-o-crazy guys doesn't help. I take down her number but froze when she asks for mine. Our lines are all bugged- by her own father, n less. How great would that be: Agent Yawn, hearing his sweet little daughter on the Cullen tapes.

"We're getting a new number," I lie. "Prank calls." I explain quickly.

There's kiss good-bye involved. It would have been longer, but the Secure-o-matic sets off the alarm again. This time I know it's on purpose.

* * *

Please review!

- Rosalie

* * *


	13. author notes

I hope you can all understand that I won't be able to write anything twilight related for awhile. It feels insulting after reading the final book. I just need to cool off. I hope you can understand and sympathize with me when I say this story is being put on hold till I get over the Twilight Saga is over.

Thanks!- and I hope to be reading your reviews as soon as I can.

- Rosalie

p.s. I'm done with the book and I'm desperate to talk about it! I feel closed in at my house where I can't say anything without risking idiotic stares or threats to shut up and don't spoil it. So msg me if you don't mind my ramble on...(thinks better to spoil something) ahem, ahem... stuff.


	14. bad news

I'm soooo so so so sorry to have to tell you this. I know how much you all love this story and I know how much you want to to update it as soon as possible. But unfortunatly I don't have the magic mojo for writing this story anymore. I've been dreading writing more chapters. I'm just not inspired enough or into it as you all are. I'm so sorry. But I can't continue this story anymore. But if anyone is willing to adopt the story, because even I don't want to see it go to waste message me if you think you are up to it.

THis story is up for adoption. I don't want it to fall in the trash unfinished, please if you have read the book and would like to try it please message me. I'm just not up to it. I would write if I had to but I'm afraid that it wouldn't be the same because I'm just not feeling it anymore... /

- Rosalie


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